


he is yours

by gingerbread man (xphantomhive)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alpha Timeline, French Kissing, Kissing, M/M, Making Out, be warned, i told myself it would be, this is underage, well this was supposed to be short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-29
Updated: 2016-05-29
Packaged: 2018-07-10 23:08:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7011940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xphantomhive/pseuds/gingerbread%20man
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When you think of Dave Strider, you think of a too-cool demeanor, the color red, hot Texan summers, and sticky grape popsicle kisses in the shade.</p>
            </blockquote>





	he is yours

The day you turn thirteen, you realize that something is missing.

You think it might have something to do with the fact that when you see a blonde wearing sunglasses, your heart lurches in the worst of ways. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that you can’t look at anyone with black lipstick or anyone with a white dog without your stomach turning in the most uncomfortable of ways, kind of like it does when you ride a rollercoaster. You know that something drastic is missing, but you just can’t seem to place what it is.

//

On the day of your birthday, April thirteenth, your mom isn’t even home. She’s away on business in Italy, pedaling her gunky makeup and horrible tasting cakes to anyone who will listen to her boring, long-winded spiels. She didn’t even leave you a gift. Your sister Jane finds you on the sofa at six a.m., watching some documentary on evolution that you don’t even really care about that much. She takes the spot next to you and sets a present on your lap. “You didn’t have to get me a gift,” you tell her, but you really appreciate that she cared enough to get you something. “I’m not even sad that mom didn’t get me anything.”

“Yes you are.” Jane says, nudging you with her shoulder. “Just open my gift, will you? It took me three days to find it.”

You unwrap the present and throw the paper aside. Later, you know the maid will insist on cleaning it up for you, but you’ll tell her that you can do it yourself. You don’t understand why mom even hired a maid. You really don’t need one. You look down at Jane’s gift after being lost in your thoughts for a minute or two, and then you throw your arms around her and yank her into a hug. It’s the bunny from your favorite movie, _Con Air._ “Thank you so much, Jane."

She smiles. “You’re welcome, John. You know, it’s the real bunny from the movie.”

You want to say something like, “you shouldn’t have done this” but you don’t. You bet the bunny cost her a fortune. You don’t know where she even would’ve gotten enough money to buy the thing. You hope that she didn’t use her allowance to. You know that she was saving up for a diamond ring for her girlfriend, Roxy, and you wouldn’t want her to spend that money on you instead of her girlfriend. You stare at the bunny in your hands and turn it over a few times. You know you’re thankful. How couldn’t you be? It’s a bunny from your favorite movie, and it’s the actual one, too. But all you can think about is the fact that you didn’t get it from the right person.

//

Your mom is still away on business a few days later, so Jane asks you if you’d mind if she invited Roxy over for dinner. You shrug your shoulders. You could care less. Roxy is a really nice girl, and you don’t mind spending time with her. Jane tells you that Roxy is going to bring her sister, Rose, with her, and a nerve is struck in you. You think there was a time when you knew a girl named Rose Lalonde. You think that Rose Lalonde was one of your best friends. When you think of the name Rose, all you can think of is black lipstick, short blonde hair, and the color violet. It makes you sick to your stomach.

That day, you go out to get your first tattoo. You’re only thirteen, but Jane is eighteen and she’s forged your mom’s signature enough that she comes along with you and signs off on you getting the tattoo. On your right bicep, you get a strange-looking sun in the color violet. Jane asks you why you got it, and you shrug one shoulder. “I don’t know. I just thought it would look nice.”

At six p.m., someone rings your doorbell. The maid offers to get the door, but you tell her that you can do it yourself. You pull the door open and smile when you see that Rose and Roxy are on the other side. You usher them into the house, tell them that Jane’s in the kitchen, and look over Rose a few times. She’s just like you imagined she would look. This is the Rose Lalonde you know. She smiles at you like she knows something you don’t. At six-thirty, Jane calls for the three of you to come into the kitchen.

Your dinner table is way too big for four people, so you all try to sit together at one end. Jane’s cooking is way better than the maid’s cooking is, so you’re thankful that she made the meal. You know that she holds hands with Roxy under the table while you’re eating, and you even see them sneak in a kiss every now and then. You’re too busy talking to Rose to pay much mind to it. “So, Jane tells me that you got a tattoo today,” Rose says conversationally, giving you that smile that makes you feel like she knows something you don’t again. You nod, scratching the back of your neck awkwardly. “May I see it?”

“Sure.” You respond, rolling up your sleeve. The tattoo is still wrapped because it’s sensitive, but when Rose sees it, her eyes widen all the same. You think that this tattoo might mean something to her. When she excuses herself from the table, you know that it is. You have half a mind to go find her, but instead you roll your sleeve back down and keep eating.

“What just happened?” Roxy asks, and you shrug.

//

On your fourteenth birthday, your mom is away on business again. This time, she’s in China, marketing her new line of makeup. Over the past few years, you’ve learned to hate your mother because you know that she could care less about you and Jane. Instead of giving you a gift, Jane agrees to pay for your next tattoo. This time, you get a strange symbol that you can’t even really describe in the color green. Jane tells you that she’s invited your grandmother, Jade, over, and that she thinks she would like that tattoo. You ask her why.

“Because she likes the color green,” Jane says, but you know that isn’t the only reason. When you think of Grandma Jade, you think of tangled black hair, gardening, and the color green. You think of the name Jade Harley. You know that your grandmother’s name is Jade English, to spite your mother, but you know that isn’t what it should actually be. Grandma Jade comes over around seven at night. She kisses your cheek and says, “Happy birthday, Johnny.”

You hate it when she calls you that, she knows you hate it when she calls you that, and she starts laughing when you make a sour face. “Grandma, I got a new tattoo. Do you want to see it?” You ask her. She nods, and you roll your sleeve up for her to see it. Her face pales when she does. You know what it means to her. She looks at you like you’ve cracked the code to the universe, and you give her an all-knowing smile, not anywhere near the ones Rose has given you. Grandma Jade swallows thickly, says, “Johnny, I think it’s time you met my friend, Dave Strider. He’s a famous movie director now, and I’ve known him for a long, long time.”

The name Dave Strider makes you think of shitty raps, sunglasses, and the color red. It makes you think of hot summer days and grape popsicles, stolen kisses in a hand-built treehouse that took three days to get finished. It makes you think of death, over and over again, death that cannot be stopped or prevented. It makes you think of not being able to save someone. It makes your chest ache in all of the worst ways, and Grandma Jade smiles softly at the face you make.

“It’ll be okay, Johnny,” she says, holding your hand under the table and rubbing the back of it with her thumb. “I know you’ll like him.”

//

One day later, you get two tattoos. Jane agrees to pay for them even though you know that they’re going to be costly. You’re getting a gear in the center of your back and a scratched record on your collarbone. They hurt like hell, both of them, but you bare the pain. When they’re finished, Jane takes you out for ice cream. “Are you excited to meet Dave Strider tomorrow? I don’t know if you like his movies or not, but I know you like a lot of movies.”

Actually, you hate Dave Strider’s movies. You think they kind of suck. You’ve watched them with Rose and Grandma Jade before. When you watch movies with Grandma Jade and Rose, they sit at least a foot apart and hold hands over the space between them. They think you don’t notice the way they look longingly at each other, like time had it out for them and made their ages too far apart. You know they kiss sometimes, hidden in the guest room upstairs in your house. You know that they love each other. But Rose is seventeen and Grandma Jade is sixty.

“I hate his movies,” you tell Jane, finally coming back to earth. “They suck.”

Jane laughs and finishes off her ice cream cone. “Well, okay.”

//

Dave Strider is taller than you by a whole foot. He’s also older than you by ten years. You stare at him in awe for a minute, your hand automatically moving to cover your scratched record tattoo because you think, in some way, it’s related to him. “Um, hi,” you say, probably looking like an absolute idiot with your hand over your collarbone and your hair windswept from riding in Roxy’s convertible over here. Rose and Grandma Jade both laugh at you. They’re holding hands again, but they’re still sitting at least a foot apart. You don’t understand either of them. “My name is John Egbert. What’s yours?”

Oh my god, why would you ask what his name is?

He laughs at you, too. Grandma Jade almost seems shocked about that. You’re kind of shocked about it, because when you think of the name Dave Strider you think of a poker face and a stoic demeanor. “I think you know that.” He responds. His voice is low and there’s a twang to it that isn’t exactly unpleasant. When you think of Dave Strider, you think of a high-rise apartment in Texas and a brother who could care less about his safety. You nod your head and swallow thickly. It’s been less than two minutes and you’ve already managed to make a complete fool out of yourself. You are absolutely embarrassed. Something about Dave Strider makes you feel like even more of an awkward teenager than you already are.

“I, uh. Do. Yep, I know your name.” You respond. Grandma Jade starts laughing again. You scratch the back of your neck awkwardly. Dave compliments your tattoo, and you tell him that you have one of a gear on your back and two other ones on your biceps. He nods his head and tells you he wouldn’t mind seeing them sometime. “Are you saying that you want to see me shirtless?” You ask, finally gaining some ground. Rose starts tittering.

“Maybe I am,” he says back, almost a challenge. Your face flushes, and you know that you’ve lost this battle. You aren’t sure why Dave Strider would want to see _you_ shirtless, of all people. He’s a famous movie director and he could have literally any girl he wants, so why would he want you? You try not to get your hopes up too high because he’s too old for you anyway. “Wanna go out to eat?”

You aren’t hungry, but you nod your head anyway.

//

A few weeks later, your mom still isn’t home from her business trip. You think, idly, it would be tragic if she died, but you aren’t sure if you should care because you doubt she would care very much if you died. Jane decides to throw a pool party. She only invites over Roxy, Rose, Dave, and Grandma Jade. You put on your bathing suit in the bathroom next to the kitchen and stare at yourself in the mirror for a few minutes. You’re all gangly limbs and baby fat because you’re only fourteen and you haven’t grown into your body yet, and it makes you feel awkward.

You’re almost ready to back out of the pool party and go camp out in your room, but when you step out of the bathroom and try to go upstairs Jane stops you. “Oh hell no. You are not going upstairs to skip out on this pool party because you have baby fat. You are going to go out there, get in that pool, and have a hell of a time. Do you hear me John Crocker? I am your sister, and I am telling you to go enjoy yourself.”

You sigh and relent. You never could deny Jane when she asks you to do something, especially when she encouraged you rather than just telling you. You walk outside and sit by the pool, surprised to find that Grandma Jade is already there. She’s wearing a sunhat that is a ridiculous size and a full-piece green bathing suit. “Nervous about Dave seeing you, huh?” She asks, holding her hand out for you. You grab it and she squeezes it. “Don’t worry. I’m sure he’ll think your baby fat and gangly limbs are absolutely precious, like I do.”

“Grandma, I don’t want him to-”

“To like you like I do, I know.”

You don’t really know what to say after that, so you sit there in absolute silence. After a few minutes, Roxy, Rose, and Jane walk outside. Jane is carrying a tray of cupcakes, and you scrunch your nose at the sight of them. You drop Grandma Jade’s hand and stand, wading into the shallow end of the pool. You sit on the stairs and watch Rose give Grandma Jade a quick peck and then you watch the smile on both of their faces as Rose takes the seat next to her and grabs her hand over the table.

You almost feel bad for them. Grandma Jade is sixty, and Rose is only seventeen, but they obviously love each other so much. You wish that Grandma Jade was younger. You also wish that there is a universe, somewhere, where they’re the same age and they can love each other the way they want to. Jane puts some music on and plops down on Roxy’s lap. “C’mon, am I really gonna be the only one in the pool? God, kids these days and there romance.”

Grandma Jade laughs. “I’m supposed to say that, Johnny.” She says. Rose stands and sits on her lap instead of in the chair next to her, and you realize that it’s the boldest thing you’ve ever seen Rose do. Grandma Jade’s face flushes and Rose leans back against her chest. Grandma Jade wraps her arms around Rose’s waist after a few minutes, and you smile.

Someone pushes the screen door open after a few minutes, and you realize after a second that the only person it could really be is Dave. You have to squint to see him because you decided to take your glasses off, and you try to ignore the fact that he looks _really_ good in his swimsuit. Instead of sitting on a chair like everyone else, he dives into the pool right in front of you. When he comes up, you complain at him about splashing you. “Sorry, princess.” He says, and then you yell at him for calling you princess. You can’t recall the amount of times you have told him _not_ to call you that.

He swims over to you and sits on the stairs next to you. You feel very small when you’re next to him, mainly because he’s six feet tall and pure muscle and you’re five feet tall and gangly limbs and baby fat. Grandma Jade and Rose both smile knowingly, almost like they know something that you don’t. Sometimes, you think they’re both psychic. “I think I have to go inside for a few minutes. Come with me, Rose dear?” Grandma Jade says. Rose nods and stands up, and the two of them walk inside. Jane smiles at Roxy.

“I think I need to go inside for something, too,” she says. Oh my god, no. They are so totally not doing this to you. No way are they going to do this to you. You hate the four of them more than you have ever hated anyone. “Come with me, Roxy?”

Roxy nods and Jane stands up. The two of them disappear inside behind Grandma Jade and Rose, and then you’re left outside with Dave. “You look cute without your glasses,” he says, and you blush. Goddammit. “Look better with ‘em, though.”

“You’re still wearing your sunglasses,” you note.

“That’s because my eyes are ugly as shit.” He responds.

You pout. “Let me see them. You’re not allowed to call anything about yourself ugly unless I agree that it’s ugly.”

He sighs and takes his sunglasses off, folding them up and reaching over you to set them by the pool. You touch the side of his face with your hand. It’s pretty hard, seeing as he has a whole inch on you and you have to reach up to do it. Even sitting he’s a lot taller than you. You see now that his eyes are red, and you turn his head so you can see them better. “I like your eyes,” you say matter-of-factly. He hums. “They’re nice. You’re a liar, your eyes are not ugly.”

“They aren’t exactly the b-” you don’t let him finish that sentence, because you make sure that his mouth is busy so that he can’t. You jut up and press your mouth to his, hands on his shoulders to keep yourself up and stable. He kisses you back, but after a second he breaks out of the kiss. You resist the urge to frown. “You’re only fourteen.” He says.

You sigh. “I knew that was going to be a problem.”

“Just because it ain’t morally acceptable for me to kiss you doesn’t mean I give a shit, John.”

You open your mouth to ask, “what?” but his lips are already on yours. You nearly fall back into the pool because he’s still a lot fucking taller than you, but he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you up before you can manage to fall back. You add your tongue into the mix after a whole minute passes. You have to breathe out of your nose, but you don’t even care. You’re clumsy with your tongue because the only other time you’ve ever French kissed someone was when you were at summer camp last year. You did it behind the cabins with a girl you met named Kanaya who didn’t even like boys. Dave breaks the kiss again. “Okay, no, not working. You’re horrible with your tongue. Who taught you how to French kiss, kid?”

“Kanaya Maryam.” You respond without missing a beat.

“Well, Kanaya Maryam doesn’t know shit about French kissing. Let me show you how to do it.”

Dave pulls you closer by your waist. By this point, you’re really just sitting on his lap, but it at least adds to your height and you’re almost face-to-face with him. He dives in for another kiss, and this time he guides you on how to use your tongue. “Right, like that,” he says, and it feels like someone lit a fire beneath you when he praises you. “You’re doing real good.”

You moan into the kiss.

Someone pushes the screen door open. “I’m all for you guys being together, but the last thing I wanna see is my little Johnny losing his virginity to Dave Strider at a pool party.” You hear Grandma Jade say, and you break out of the kiss with a blush staining your cheeks. Dave is smirking like he’s king shit. You almost smack him. Almost.

//

When you think of Dave Strider, you think of hot Texan summers and sticky grape popsicles. You’re only fourteen and he’s twenty four, but you loved him in another universe and you still love him now. Your relationship may be morally unacceptable, but you love him. You love Dave Strider with everything you have. Everything you are.

  
Dave Strider is yours.

**Author's Note:**

> i told myself that this would be short.
> 
> it was not.
> 
> i hope someone liked it! i worked pretty hard on this.


End file.
